


OK PV! Let's go on a date!

by mizunoiro



Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: Bad internet dating advice, Comedy, Established Relationship, First Dates, Fluff, Insecure Characters, M/M, Snakes, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizunoiro/pseuds/mizunoiro
Summary: It’s been a month since Professor Venomous moved in Boxmore, and less than that since he and Boxman started sharing a bed, and now Boxman wants to do something special to celebrate their one-month anniversary. What can possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Lord Boxman/Professor Venomous
Comments: 16
Kudos: 74





	OK PV! Let's go on a date!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fire_Cooking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Cooking/gifts).



Boxman was faced with the oldest and hardest riddle of them all - what to gift a person who has everything? A lot of classical stories would have gone very, very differently and much better for the villains in them if the assorted sphinxes and trolls and other monsters asked _that_ as a riddle and not some boring stuff about legs.

All of the advice he had ever heard or researched almost unanimously screamed one thing - even if you weren’t broke, the best kind of presents were experiences, not material objects. Some articles on the internet even warned against giving adults, and especially romantic partners, objects as gifts - apparently making good memories together was a “much better bonding experience and a chance to spend quality time with your s.o.” It had taken Boxman some time to realize that s.o. did not, in fact, stand for “sales order,” which absolutely did not bode well for his romantic endeavors.

So what experience would make Professor Venomous happy? 

He had been arguably the single most famous and heroic hero of his time, and he was equally classically villainous as a villain, too. 

He liked blowing up stuff and being evil for the fun of it, even if it was unprofitable. But they attacked stuff, and especially the plaza, every few days, so nothing special about that.

He liked expensive sports cars, and all Boxman knew about them was that with the right tinkering, they could be turned to good light-class fighter robots. Somehow he didn’t think, though, that the professor would appreciate him tinkering with the car that he was known to clean with his own handkerchief.

Venomous was so classical, in fact, that he had recently taken to petting Mikayla in his lap while he plotted (that lucky little bastard-ette). He had even asked Boxman if he was amenable to giving the new batch of Mikayla's thick white fur to make them more marketable to arch-nemesis-type villains for their plotting needs. Evil, pettable, _and_ can do your taxes? Who wouldn’t want to buy one!

Speaking of classical… he did like opera and symphonic stuff. Boxman had nearly cried himself to sleep when he had checked the prices for that. He and the moth Dusty that lived in his wallet would have to sell their livers to afford even a decent show, nevermind the really good stuff.

And with that… he was out of ideas. It was weird how he had pined after the man practically since they met, and had been living with him for a whole month (miraculous!) and they even shared a T-Rex-feather bed now, and he just did. _not_. _know_. 

The solution, of course, had to be out there. Surely, he wasn’t the only lucky poor guy on the planet to shack up with money? So he opened the Poodle search engine and typed “cute date ideas for broke cyborgs.” It turned up a list of “top ten” things to do as a proud poor person who wanted to romance the lab coat off a date. He read it eagerly.

  1. Play strip poker. _Ooof, that list sure doesn’t mince words, eh._



Boxman tried to imagine the scenario and spent a few blissful minutes salivating over the mental image of an increasingly underdressed PV, while he, Boxman, _of course_ , was an imperturbable master of bluffs with a perfect poker face and full set of clothes on. 

And then he remembered that he couldn’t play a hand of poker to save his life and with his luck, the classical villain PV would turn out to secretly make half of his fortune in illicit professional poker games online.

  1. Go thrift-shopping. _With the stuff he wears? No way!_


  1. Work out together. _Hmmm..._



Boxman’s mind, predictably, pictured a sweaty well-toned Venomous in incredibly tiny shorts and a tank top Fink’s size doing any kind of workout in front of him. After steeping in the happy image, Boxman made a mental note to pass very casually by the newly-built small gym some day soon. The professor did like to stay in shape, after all.

Boxman… not so much. Now that he was sharing a bed with the man, he was of the opinion that being given mouth-to-mouth and cpr should only be his very last resort for getting PV to kiss him. He was spoiled that way.

  1. Go on a hike. _… Like, do people really do that? Go out there and, what, crawl on rocks and get sunburn and snake bites for fun? Ooooh, snake bites though… he-he-heh..._



After fishing his mind out of the gutter yet again, Boxman went on with the list.

  1. Stargaze. _Ok, that is kind of romantic._



And then he remembered that PV was if not outright cold-blooded, then at least very easily chilled. Since he’d moved in, Boxmore had more ACs and furnaces than it had robots, in Boxman’s opinion.

  1. Visit a museum on an open day. _Listen here, I’m trying to romance PV, not Stink!_


  1. Make a home-spa and give each other massages all day. _Eeep._



Boxman felt a short-circuit coming on at that one and took five to calm himself and have a bit of a lie-down.

  1. Bake or cook something at home. Wow your date with your cooking skills! _If only_.



The last time he had cooked his special blunch in Venomous’s house as a token of gratitude, the man had almost bitten his head off. It had been the first time (and only, for now) that he saw PV’s rattle manifest. Plus, the man only ordered fancy takeout, often from restaurants that did not even normally deliver, so Boxman supposed that getting him in a kitchen with cooking intent would be both humiliating and weird.

  1. Go to a karaoke. _That… is actually doable. Dusty can spare enough cash for that! And PV likes karaoke! But… we have a karaoke at home..._


  1. Pet animals - visit a pet shelter or rent a pet for a day; animals are sure to endear you to a date! 



_And Bingo! I know just the thing!_

\---

Professor Venomous felt _threatened_. He was faced with the question every young man in history had asked himself when going for the first time on a date with someone they had a crush on - am I not better off renouncing the material world, retreating to a monastery and never showing my stupid blushing face to mortal eyes ever again?

But he wasn’t even young anymore! And he had moved in with the man! And they were even sleeping in the same bed every single Cob-dang night!

All of that had happened with a notable lack of any date-dates, though. There had been explosions, yachts, flying desks, trashcans, tricycles of doom and a memorable incident involving Lakewood library, but… not any actual _dates_.

And the dating scene in the world of villainy was a thing of marvel and macabre fascination. The high-level villains were a relatively small and rather exclusive bunch, and tended to fall into two categories: hyper-sexualized or absolute monsters. Considering the way villainous tastes tended to run, that meant that everyone had been in everyone else’s business at some point or another. Possibly several times. 

Everyone except _one_...

He stopped pacing wide circles around the phone with the dreaded text “hey PV! :*** U&me date day tomorrow! <333” and collapsed in his boss-chair, setting off to compose a reply that would convey his complicated feelings and misgivings in a casual, but effective and dignified manner.

In about half an hour, he pressed send to “Sure, why not.” and quietly stifled a sob. Then he opened his browser to Poodle some information about proper villainous dating etiquette. Yes, he was that far gone.

“So you’re a villain who wants to hop into that dating pool of boiling lava! Here are our ten basic tips for a great villainous date that are guaranteed to make your dip a success!”

_Promising._ He clicked the article open.

  1. Be late: 



It’s important to remember that as a villain, your time is more important than everyone else’s. The bigger the difference between you and your date’s POW level, the more fashionably late you should be. That way, your date will have the chance to show that they’re always ready to wait on you and your pleasure!

_Eep. But I’m the one with the lower POW level! Skipskipskip._ He absolutely did not blush at the reminder how much he had lucked out with catching Boxman’s eye.

  1. Talk about yourself:



The best topic of conversation is the most interesting thing on that date - you! Your date needs to be wowed with tales of how awesome you are. No list of achievements is too long! It’s especially cute if you start with your earliest attempts at villainy from when you were a toddler and then work your way up to present day and your future projects!

_I… I was a hero, though._ Venomous wriggled uncomfortably in his chair. _And I live with Boxman, he knows all about my projects, past, present and future. Next._

  1. Talk about your exes and other conquests:



Make sure to give your prospective new date a thick, concise list of all the failures and shortcomings of your previous partners! No better way to warn them what you expect them not to do if they want to have the privilege of dating you. Give some positive examples of behaviors you do expect from them, such as particularly good techniques your exes had!

_I literally never want to talk about Carol and K.O. ever again, and as for conquests… Oh Cob what if Boxman asks?? What will I tell him? Do I have to make stuff up? Oh Cob, no, skip, next._

  1. Pay attention to your appearance:



While it is tempting to show up looking a mess, thus letting your date know they’ve not yet earned the privilege of you - dressing up for them, it may be taken to mean that you don’t take pride in how you look. A carefully curated personal style is essential for a successful villain, so our advice is to err on the side of vanity and show them your best and evilest look.

_YES! Cob yes, finally one I can do! I can dress up! I’m good at that!_ And then reality crashed on him. _Not that it would make any impression on anyone who’s seen the ghoul I am when I wake up in the morning..._

  1. Tell them your whole tragic villain backstory:



If you don’t have one, maybe you’re in the wrong place. Click on this link to check out our helpful “So your backstory isn’t tragic enough” article!

_Check, and also, cob you._

  1. Bring your minions with you:



No date is quite right without a few comfortable, familiar minions and maybe codependent co-villains that you can kick around and mess with if the conversation stills. After all, you have a lot more common history with them than with your prospective date, so show them what great villainous atmosphere they can expect in your presence!

_Eeep. As if I’d ever kick Fink. And bringing her on a date with Boxman…_ He shuddered and went a shade paler. _No, nope, absolutely not, Cob no, next._

  1. Treat the staff at the places you visit right:



No villain ever tips. We hope you know that, but let’s say it again, because so many villains forget this basic rule and end up tipping. It seems like a small thing, but it leaves a big impression on your date. Do you want them to think you’re generous and empathetic? No, we thought not. And while we’re on the subject, don’t forget to berate, humiliate, kick, set on fire and otherwise harass any staff around, should opportunity present itself.

_Uhm… I’ll put that one as a firm maybe. I’m only a -8 villain, after all, and I’m not yet completely comfortable with this sort of behavior._

  1. Talk about your naughty preferences and expectations at length:



_Skip. He already knows practically all about_ those.

  1. Be argumentative and offer life advice:



_Are you kidding me. The best life advice_ I _have ever heard came from_ him, _not the other way round!_

Venomous, whose hand was already trembling at that point, angrily threw the phone away and hung his head in his hands. It was hopeless. None of the advice was useful. He was going to blow it so completely. Why, why, _why_ had Boxman felt the need to turn conventional villain now and ask him on a bleeding date?

After a few minutes to compose himself, he finally got up and with lips set tight, he went off to choose an outfit, make-up and probably underwear for the approaching flaming fiasco.

\---

It only occurred to Boxman after he had sent _the_ text that Professor Venomous, being the glamorous, suave, stylish, _rich_ villain that he was, was probably used to dates of a much, much different caliber than he and the moth Dusty could afford. When he thought about it, he remembered hearing about a date of Cosma’s that had involved the extinction of dinosaurs on some weird planet nearby... Poor souls.

So when the time came and Venomous sauntered in his office all smooth and sleek and hot and dressed in a suit whose stray price tag had scared Boxman, the inventor realized he had made a grave error in his calculations, and now things were well on their way to explode in his face. And not even the fun way.

“Hey, Boxman,” Venomous greeted him coolly. “I’m ready.”

“I...” he nervously pulled at the neck of his own old red sweater. Matching it to the color of his eye had seemed like the height of fashion… until Venomous had walked in looking like _that_. “Will you be comfortable in that? We’re taking the desk...”

“Not like I haven’t ridden it in suit before.”

“But then it was all ripped and stuff...”

“Good times,” Venomous commented expressionlessly.

_Strike one_ , thought a suddenly sweaty Boxman. _Remind him again of how you ruined his suit_ and _his friend’s party, Boxy, will you._

_If only dates could be like that_ , Venomous thought gloomily, trying to keep the simmering mild panic away from his face. _How will I last all the way until evening pretending I know what I’m doing?_

“A-alright then! Let’s go!” Boxman tried to be cheerful. “Did you check up on Fink, before we go?”

“Yes, all of the robots are with her either babysitting or instigating mass destruction.”

“Sounds fun!” said Boxman, wishing to be mass destroyed, too.

“Yes,” said Venomous in monotone, wishing he could ditch the suit and join them with Boxman.

With this fresh, excited and optimistic go-getter attitude, the two villains climbed on the desk and were off into the world of evil dating.

\---

“Is this… the zoo?” Venomous asked disbelievingly as they approached and the desk started to look for a place to land. Was mass extinction of species really a feature of all evil dates, like that one date of Cosma’s he’d heard about??

“It’s the new herpetarium, actually!” Boxman said proudly as he shot a couple of rockets to clear space for the desk. Well, at least parking was easy when you’re a villain. “And they have a whole guest collection of eastern snakes!”

They very tamely got off, approached the building and bought tickets, doing nothing more evil than jumping the line and threatening with missiles those who protested.

As soon as they were in, though, Venomous’s hackles went up. 

To the right of them, there was a display with two snakes wrapped around each other so tightly they were practically a rope. To the left, a whole bunch of snakes were mashed together like a cup of noodles. Venomous sweated and slithered to the small lake in front.

The tiny decorative inlet right at his feet was practically full of small slimy globes and a male frog was eyeing them lasciviously. Venomous stepped away and came face-to-face with two chameleons stacked on top of each other. He pressed his back to the glass of another, seemingly empty display and tried to catch his breath. Was this some sort of weird come-on from Boxman? Had he planned this? Is this how other villains carried on??

“Uhm, PV, are you alright?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, there’s a restroom right over there, if...” Boxman shut up at the wide-eyed look Venomous gave him. “Or not. Hey, look! That snake is looking at you! It wants to be friends!”

He turned around and sure enough, a purple eastern snake hanging from a branch with its tongue flicking out was trying to bump the back of his head with its chin through the mesh window in one corner. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep, claiming breath.

“It… he wants to be more than just friends,” he mumbled. Boxman looked at him quizzically, one snaggletooth biting his lower lip.

_Oh Cob what am I even thinking. This is Boxman. My Boxy. He doesn’t have it in him to drop hints, and especially as weird and creepy as this one. Have faith, you old villain, have faith._

“Boxman...” he said, just to make absolutely sure he was right. “Do you know anything about these creatures? And about their… behavior?”

“Erm. No?” 

“Good, good,” Venomous sighed in relief and allowed himself to relax a little. He even smiled a bit at the eager bonking on the glass behind him. _If only Boxman knew what a rival he has in this one._

Once he had calmed down enough, the rest of the visit was fun enough. He knew a lot, or at least more than Boxman, about most of the exhibits, and he soon discovered that talking about the snakes, lizards, turtles, and whatnot helped him forget the horrible fact that he was out on a villainous date. Of which Boxman had had a lot more than him. So much more. _Cob._

Boxman himself was more than happy to listen to anything PV had to say about any creature that wasn’t him. He had been casting surreptitious glances at the other people milling around, despite the huge empty bubble the two of them formed wherever they went, and had realized that this was decidedly not the kind of place a villain like PV went to on dates. Of which he must have had a lot. So many dates. _Oh Cob._

He excused himself and ran off to the restroom, where he kicked the wall a bit and then opened his phone and frantically started researching some other place he could take PV to.

When he returned, the man in question was sitting on a bench in front of a display with several purple eastern snakes and absently touching his face. 

“Hey, PV,” he slid next to him on the bench. “What are you looking at?”

“Well,” he vaguely gestured at the snakes. “They’re practically my cousins, so...”

“I’m… I’m sorry, PV. This wasn’t a good idea. I should have realized.” Boxman bit his lip and stared at their shoes. “Let’s get out of here?”

“Huh?” Venomous finally looked at him. “No, no, it’s not what you think.” He smiled a bit. “I don’t regret experimenting on myself, and a snake is a pretty cool thing to be.”

“So what is it then?”

“I...” Venomous gulped. “A lot of things changed back then. And I only realize now that maybe… well, maybe I haven’t dealt with all of them, yet. Not properly, anyway.” It was hard to admit it, but Boxman’s quiet, for once, concern made him want to open up, even if only a bit.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Boxman tugged at the hem of his sleeve. “This was meant to be nice!”

“But it _is_ nice,” Venomous said and took the hand that was holding his sleeve and pulled Boxman closer. “Let’s sit a bit more.”

And so they did. Venomous wrapped one arm around Boxman’s shoulders and watched the slithering purple beauties. Boxman leaned his head on his shoulder and looked up at his own purple beauty.

\---

By the time they arrived at the next spot, a private art-gallery that Venomous had never heard of, he was feeling a bit more like himself. The date so far was free of any creepiness, except the one in his own head, and there was a notable lack of mass extinction of species. Maybe that was only Cosma’s thing…

“Here we are, PV!” Boxman exclaimed proudly, hopping down the squished hood of the car they had landed on. “I’m sure you’ll like this one much better!”

Venomous took the hand the other villain was offering and couldn’t help admiring his beaming smile. He had no idea why Boxman thought he’d enjoy an art gallery, but he hopped off the crashed car and followed him anyway. _Maybe he remembered all the artwork in my old house? It was all gifts, and some of them rather weird, but it’s sweet if Boxman really did remember-_

“Bonsai Union for Tentacle & Trunk Specimens - Annual Show 20XX”

_I knew there would be a catch. I just knew._

The Bonsai Union for Tentacle & Trunk Specimens, or more affectionately known as B.U.T.T.S., was a bonsai organization that focused on the growing of tentacled trees, and as both a biologist and a bonsai aficionado, it had been right up his alley. The tree, Cob rest its spores, that he had been pruning when Boxman had blown up his house had won prizes at the very same show several times.

He didn’t have the tree anymore. Instead, he had Boxy himself. And they lived together. And he had remembered his hobby that he’d seen only once. All that at the price of a bonsai was better than winning the jackpot, in Venomous’s books.

_Cob, if Boxman hadn’t blown up that stupid tree and my house, I might have never moved in with him. I might have never gotten my hands on him. I might have stupidly stayed away, like every other time I had a chance and never took it_ , Venomous thought as he stared absently at the first exhibit, a plum bonsai with bright pink petals shyly protected by bright pink tentacles matching exactly in color. 

“Oh, PV, look, I think this one likes me!” Boxman interrupted his daze. One tentacle was wrapping itself around his extended finger. 

_Boxy does like to get his fingers everywhere…_

“Erm. PV? You alright?”

“Eh? Ah. You’re delicious.”

“???” Boxman looked at him scandalized and slightly blushy.

“I mean,” he coughed and tried to collect himself. “It has taste receptors on its suction cups. It thinks you’re delicious and wants to eat you.” _So do I, incidentally_ , he didn’t add.

Boxman immediately pulled his finger away from the offending bonsai with a wet popping sound and a murmured curse and gave it an impressive stink-eye. Venomous chuckled.

“This one probably won’t win,” he commented, trying to console Boxman’s indignation. “If it has no poison and you can peel it that quickly off its prey, it’s just a glorified plum branch.”

“Oh is that so!” Someone drawled behind them. “I don’t see _your_ entry this year, Venomous. Did it wither like your villainous career?”

The two villains, with very unimpressed faces, turned around to see Vormulax.

“Oh look Boxman, is that another specimen?” Venomous deadpanned.

“Well, it’s stunted, has tentacles, a trunk, and no brain cells, so it must be,” Boxman replied.

“Oh, hilarious,” said Vormulax, preparing to fully engage in the time-honored tradition of trash-talking the (potential) competition. “Do you two practice your comedy routine all day stuck in that scrapyard of a factory?”

“Well, at least we-”

“PV, allow me to handle this one,” interrupted Boxman, sounding uncharacteristically dignified.

He bounced right in Vormulax’s space and leered up. Venomous braced mentally.

“I hope you like grilled octopus, _Laxy_ ,” he sneered, and the next thing Venomous knew, everything was exploding. 

_Oh, so dates actually_ can _be like that,_ Venomous thought excitedly as he scrambled for the safety of the flying desk. A strong taloned hand gripped his arm and hauled him on top.

“Was that too much, how do you think?” Boxman asked, not sounding too apologetic about the fluffy explosion clouds below them.

“Nah,” Venomous said, adjusting his now less than whole suit. “Serves them right for going ahead with the show without me.”

“Huh?”

“I was a part of BU-, erm, of that union. I thought you chose this place because you knew?”

“Oh,” Boxman said, suddenly shrinking a bit and poking his index fingers together. “Actually, about that...”

Venomous didn’t get to hear what about it because in the next moment Boxman’s eyes went wide and he… hopped off the desk.

“Boxman!!” Venomous shouted and scuttered to the edge of the desktop, trying to catch him. He managed to grab a foot.

“S-sorrey, PV!” came from below. “Gimme a sec!”

The desk made a complicated maneuver that made Venomous turn slightly greenish and Boxman was back on top, shyly handing him… a bonsai?

“For you,” he explained, blushing prettily. “I saw it sail by and just had to grab it.”

Venomous silently accepted the tentacled monstrosity and unstuck a few suckers from Boxman’s hands in the process. It was actually a rather good specimen. 

“It-it’s for the one I ruined when, you know...” Boxman said apologetically.

“Oh… there was no need to,” said Venomous, practically hugging it to himself. _I’m keeping this one forever_. “I don’t regret losing that tree at all. Or the house, for that matter.”

_I’m glad you got me out of it._

“Really?” Boxman asked, the snaggletooth making an appearance once again. _Adorable_.

“Really,” said Venomous sincerely and allowed himself a happy smile.

They looked at each other lovingly over the top of the artful bonsai.

“PV?”

“Yes, Boxman?”

“I think your new tree is trying to eat you.”

Venomous looked at the front of his suit and cursed loudly.

\---

By the time the desk landed again, Venomous occupied a soft wooly red sweater and the bonsai was happily ruminating his suit jacket and most of his shirt. A few of its bigger tentacles were tied safely with his necktie.

“Are you sure you won’t be cold like that? It gets cooler in the evening,” he asked Boxman who was in his shirt-sleeves now.

“Pfft, it’s no problem. Are _you_ alright though? Maybe we should go buy you something else to wear?”

“Nah, don’t feel like shopping. I’m fine like this,” said Venomous, way too content to cuddle in Boxman’s sweater. It even smelled of him. And it was soft like him. And fluffy. _I’m keeping this one forever, too._

“Ok, ehm, then let’s go!” Boxman said and hopped off the desk, this time miraculously parked in an empty parking space.

“Are you sure it’s fine? We must be quite early for our reservation.” Venomous asked and followed him, trying to untangle his hair. Flying on a desk was fun, but it did nothing for his pristine looks. And the restaurant they were going to was quite high-end, Boxman hadn’t cobbed around with that one.

“What reservation?” Boxman asked casually.

“Huh? There’s no way a place like this accepts walk-ins.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I’m sure,” Boxman said and confidently strode on.

“No, Boxman, wait, I think you’ve got this wrong…”

But Boxman ignored him and just proudly kicked the front doors open and strutted in.

_Oh, Cob. This will be fun,_ Venomous thought as he looked up at the sign with the name of the restaurant.

“Your reservations, sir?” asked a very well-dressed restaurant host in the rather flashy lobby.

“Nah, we’re gay,” said Boxman and made to pass the host. 

“What?” He asked, baffled.

“I’m bi, actually,” Venomous offered in the background, trying not to snicker.

“Ok, alright, and I’m pan, but we’re a gay couple, and we’re villains,” Boxman explained patiently. “Now open this door for us, will you?”

“Sir, we don’t have a policy against villains, but I’m afraid you need to have a reservation.” 

“Why in the world!” Boxman waved his arms. “This is what your restaurant does, isn’t it?!”

“If you don’t have a reservation and you’re willing to wait, I may be able to fit you in if someone cancels, but for the moment, we’re fully booked, sir. You and your...” the host gave a very distasteful look to Venomous, head to toes. “...gentleman friend have to wait.”

Venomous realized that he was wearing rather tight pants torn in some places, an oversized red sweater that hung off one shiny naked shoulder, his hair was a right mess and his make-up had probably started to run at some point because of the strong wind in his face while they rode the desk. 

It should have been humiliating, but there was very genuine laughter and joy bubbling up inside him that he was trying to stifle for the sake of the show. Whyever had he thought that a date with Boxman would be anything less than _exhilarating_?

“Look, buddy,” Boxman scrambled on top of the small podium with the reservation book, to the host’s horror. “I know you’re not fully booked. How many gay villains can there be?”

“What does that have to do with anything??” asked a bewildered and at that point slightly terrified host.

“You’re called “Villaingayculture!” For villains that are gay and cultured! Right?”

Venomous almost choked, trying to hold the laughter in, and went even more purple than normal.

“It’s Villégiature, _sir_ ,” said the host with a whiff of arctic winds. “It means Holiday, _sir_.”

“Oh,” deflated Boxman. “So like… this is _not_ a restaurant for gay villains?”

“Not exclusively, sir, no.”

“Oh,” he said again and plopped on the podium, legs kicking shyly. “So… do you think you can sneak us in anyway?”

“ _Absolutely not, sir._ ”

“Let’s go, Boxy,” Venomous said, wheezing only slightly, and grabbed him off the podium before any missiles could make an appearance. “Plenty of establishments not exclusively for gay villains, we’ll find another.”

A limp and desolate Boxman allowed himself to be carried outside.

\---

“So, what next?” Venomous asked once he had found a nice sidewalk to deposit Boxman on. “I’m getting kind of hungry, so let’s Poodle some less exclusive restaurant nearby, now about it?”

“It’s Ok, PV,” Boxman sighed dramatically and hung his head. 

“Huh?” _Is he… hugging himself?_

“You don’t have to be so cob-dang _nice_ about it,” Boxman said even more tragically. “And there’s no need to pretend this isn’t the worst date you’ve ever been to.”

“You’d be surprised,” Venomous said, his mind skipping back to that one time when some friends had set him up an on a blind date with what had turned out to be _Foxtail_ , of all people.

“I’m so sorrey, PV,” Boxman mumbled. Something in his nasal voice alarmed Venomous.

“Boxy, are you...” He kneeled in front of him and caught his cheeks in his hands, lifting his face up. “Oh Cob, you’re crying.”

“Am not,” said Boxman, crying.

“Boxy, you’ve-”

“Go on then, say it. I’ve disappointed you again. I know,” Boxman cried harder.

Venomous had extremely limited experience with crying people and had only ever learned one way to stop anyone from crying. So he sighed, leaned his forehead on Boxman’s shoulder for a moment, and then… 

...flashed Boxman with the funniest face he was capable of making. Being part-snake, it came out spectacular. Fink had never once resisted it.

“Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! What are you doing?!”

_Aaaand success._

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said primly and sat on the sidewalk next to Boxman, one arm slung over his shoulders. He handed him his miraculously intact handkerchief.

Boxman blew his nose in it with a honk. _Charming_.

“Hey Boxman,” the other man asked nonchalantly, staring at the middle distance. “Have you done a lot of dating lately, then?”

“Eep,” elaborated Boxman and recovered only a moment later. “O-of course! A lot! So much! W-why’d you ask?”

Venomous gave him a sly look out of the corner of his eye and smiled. Boxman sweated and blushed absolutely _adorably_. The relief Venomous felt at that was warm and wonderful.

“It’s Ok, partner,” he said, as if sharing a secret, and bumped their foreheads together. “I haven’t done any either.”

“Oooh.” By the sound of it, Boxman’s relief was just as great as his. “You… don’t look like it.”

“I was trying to hide it,” he admitted. “I assumed you’d have way more experience with evil dating than me, seeing that I’ve been a villain for only 6-11 years, and you…” He waved a hand vaguely, trying to indicate that Boxman was the whole package. “You were born and bred a villain.”

“Heh,” huffed Boxman, “I used to date back when I was younger. But then there was Boxmore to build, and the kids, and the plaza and all… It just became more of a hassle than it was worth.” He poked his fingers together, not looking at Venomous. “The truth is, I haven’t been out on an actual date-date in years.”

“Same. The last person I went on an actual date with was Carol. You know, Silver Spark.” Then he added, smirking, “unless we count that do on Billiam’s yacht. That was cool.”

“He-heh, yeah, it was,” Boxman agreed and then seemed to think hard about something. “But… why didn’t you want to date? You’re so… so...” He looked at him heart-eyed. “Handsome, and accomplished, and… everything.”

“Am I?” Venomous gave him his best villainous smile that always had his Boxy melt like butter.

“Duh,” answered Boxman, as if he was stating that water is wet, fire is hot and the sky is yellow. The absolute certainty and conviction made Venomous blush, this time.

“I… I’m not sure. I’ve been thinking about it today, actually,” he admitted. “I suppose I was self-conscious for some time after the snake thing happened, but not for long. I’m not now. I know I look good, even if it’s different than before. My POW level is alright, my secrets are safe, so technically, there’s nothing stopping me.”

Boxman looked up at him expectantly and waited for him to continue. He bit his lip.

“But you hear those stories about villainous dating...”

“Cosma and the dinosaurs,” Boxman supplied darkly.

“Cosma and the dinosaurs,” he agreed solemnly. “And it’s not just that. In villain circles, it’s so common to date and flirt and seduce to get whatever it is you want. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, all of us being consenting villains and all, but...”

Boxman put his hands on his knee and patted it comfortingly. His whole being exuded commiseration.

“I guess I had a bit too much of _that_ as a superhero,” Venomous managed to make himself confess. After that, it was easier to just get it all off his chest. “Heroes aren’t supposed to use that sort of thing to get their way, but boy was everyone just so cob-dang _horny_ about Laserblast. People came at me, the youngest POINT member at the time, and told me outright that my job was to be _eye-candy_. Fans threw their… their _phone-numbers_ at me while I was saving their puppies from fires. They wrote smutty books and _fanfics_ and whatnot about me! Villains stopped to snap pictures of my butt _during attacks_ , for Cob’s sake!”

“It was a very nice butt,” Boxman nodded sagely. “I-I mean it’s very nice now too! Perfect!” He waved his arms, flustered.

Boxman’s snaggle-toothed embarrassment helped Venomous pull himself to the present and he huffed a small laugh.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “But once I was a villain and could finally be free of all that, I just wanted to keep it safely under my lab-coat and out of the reach of any evil grabby fingers.” He thought about it for a moment and came to a realization. “The thought of using my body for business ever again kind of disgusted me, I suppose. And every villain I ever met is potential business. I don’t mind people looking at me and salivating, plus I couldn’t stop them if I wanted to, but that’s it. I’m an evil scientist now, and my strength is in my mind.”

“PV...” Boxman breathed and leaned in, even closer. “But… didn’t you want to? To have somebody, I mean. You have Fink, of course, but, you know, an adult.”

“I always wanted _you_ ,” Venomous smiled and poked their foreheads together once again. “But you already know all about _that_.”

“PV...” sighed Boxman, turning into absolute goo of joy.

They sat, hugging each other on the sidewalk for a while. People in colorful clothes passed them by in the falling darkness, but nobody bothered them. Muffled screams came from the direction of the bonsai still perched on their desk, and some small pterodactyls hopped by the two of them to see if any crumbs were to be had. Venomous realized he hadn’t done anything so… mundane and peaceful in a very long time. It was lovely.

Suddenly, a sound a bit like that of fireworks came from the park some way down the street where they were sitting. Boxman looked that way, perking up.

“Hey, PV, I think they’re having a festival over there. Wanna go see?”

“Does that mean dubiously-priced street food, screaming kids and rigged shooting ranges?” Venomous scrunched up his nose.

“No,” Boxman explained patiently, as if to one of his kids. “It means food to steal, fireworks we can set on fire, cotton candy and the look on the shooting range guy’s face when we bring our own missiles to shoot with.”

“Ah. Of course. How silly of me.” Venomous gave an evil grin at the prospect. “Lead the way then.”

\---

About an hour later, the two of them were full of festival food and cotton candy, and were looking up at the lights in the night sky from the fringes of the central park space.

“You were right, Boxman,” Venomous said, licking his fingers clean and tossing the stick from the cotton candy in a trashcan behind him. “This is very nice.”

“Yes, isn’t it.” Boxman sighed happily. “I just wish the fire-trucks would turn off the sirens already.”

“Oooh!” Venomous said as another crate of fireworks caught fire and exploded high and low. “At least most of the citizens are done evacuating already, so less screaming.”

“Do you think now they’ll be able to catch all the runaway velociraptors? Setting them loose was genius, by the way.”

“Thanks. Getting the merry-go-round to turn into a mecha was a neat trick, too. I don’t know how you did it so quickly.”

“He-heh, anything to put a smile on your face, PV!” Boxman chirruped. “Now, wanna get out of here before POINT arrives?”

The two of them made their way through a dark park lane illuminated only by red and yellow paper lanterns, now forgotten. When they were nearly out of the park, Boxman reached out, took Venomous’s hand and pulled him to a stop.

“Hey PV?”

“Yes, Boxy?”

“Happy one-month anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary to you too,” Venomous replied, smiling softly.

Then he leaned down and the two of them kissed to the backdrop of one last fireworks explosion over the dark treetops, the star-lit night sky and the merrily shining paper lanterns.

—-

“It was a lovely evening, Boxy. Thank you for arranging this,” Venomous said almost shyly over the top of his well-fed new bonsai as they were flying home to Boxmore.

“Thanks, PV. I had fun, too.” Boxman was hugging him from behind to keep him warm, and well, to hug him.

“But next time you want to do something special, let’s just stay home and give each other massages all day or something. I have a good mind to build a spa for us in the factory.”

Boxman’s grin behind him shone brighter than all the lights of Boxmore. “Well, our five-week anniversary is just around the corner, you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are welcome!


End file.
